


The Answer To a Prayer

by impudent_strumpet



Category: Original Work
Genre: Boarding School, Child Abuse, Child Neglect, Childhood, Cliques, Coming of Age, Complex Friendship, Conflicting Loyalties, Dubious Morality, England (Country), Family Dynamics, Friendship, Gen, Gossip, Innocence, Internal Conflict, London, Other, Religious Conflict, Responsibility, School Life, Schoolgirls, Secrets, Students, True Friendship, Victorian Attitudes, breaking rules, freaks, secret friendship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-26
Updated: 2018-01-04
Packaged: 2018-09-02 07:10:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 16,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8655412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/impudent_strumpet/pseuds/impudent_strumpet
Summary: In 1885, Deacon Charles Blackwood, a man of wealth but also a man of God, is going overseas on a mission trip, so he sends his twelve-year-old daughter Prudence to Miss Gilmore’s School for Girls. Prudence does well in school, makes some friends who seem nice, and all seems to be well. There are some strange rules at the school that the girls have to follow, which Prudence does not understand, but she does not pry about them. She sometimes hears mysterious sounds, especially at night, but when she asks about this, it is always explained away as the school being an old building.Then one night, Prudence is awakened by a piercing scream, followed by by a figure darting from the water closet to a room that had been locked and that Prudence and the other girls were forbidden to go near. What she sees then changes everything.





	1. Chapter 1

It was a cold, quiet day in London, with rain falling from the clouds that covered the sky like a thick gray veil, into shiny clear puddles on the streets. The usually bustling of city life was hushed to the sounds of only the flowing rain, footsteps of passersby, the wheels of the carriage rolling over the street, and the clop of the horse's hooves.  
  
It was warm in the carriage where Prudence Blackwood sat with her father, though, especially in her fur coat and muff, and the hushing sound of the gently falling rain was like a lullaby. There was something relaxing about the silver raindrops sliding down the window, too, she thought as she watched them. She would not have minded if the ride took a while longer, as she was really quite comfortable.  
  
She was on her way to Miss Gilmore's School for Girls, a seminary that her father was sending her to while he took to a mission trip overseas. Deacon Charles Blackwood was a man of wealth, but also a man of God, and he wanted his daughter to grow into both a refined Victorian lady and a devout, godly Christian. Miss Gilmore's seminary seemed perfect.  
  
Prudence had taken her hands out of her muff when they grew too warm, and she knew when the carriage stopped and when her father squeezed her small hand in his larger one that they were there.  
  
"Here we are, darling," he said.  
  
Prudence could not quite see the school as she gazed out the window, as the rain-soaked glass obscured the view, but she took as much of it in as she could once the door opened and the carriage driver helped her step out.  
  
Behind the wrought iron gate was a towering, dark, austere building, of a dim gray with sharp black outlines, like in a charcoal drawing. It looked not one bit more vibrant than the overcast day outside...actually, it seemed even drearier.  
  
Inside, it was almost silent, disconcertingly so. The sounds of Prudence's footsteps and those of her father seemed too loud. All the furniture, walls, and floors around them were a deep, dark mahogany color, in varying shades, smoothly shining with burnish. Even Prudence's light, thin blonde hair and blue eyes felt garish by comparison as she gazed around the parlor that she and her father had been brought into.  
  
"Are you nervous?" Deacon Charles asked his daughter.  
  
She held onto his arm. "A little."  
  
He smiled gently at her. "Not to worry, poppet. I am sure you will make plenty of friends, find yourself right at home here, and come back to your father a fine and proper English lady. Just like your mother."  
  
Prudence smiled up at him. She was going to miss him dearly.  
  
It was barely a moment later that the door to the parlor creaked as a woman opened it. She had thick black hair piled onto her head in a bun, pale skin, and eyes like two black beads, framed by thin, pointed features. She wore a crisp, long-sleeved white blouse and a flowing black skirt. A small smile curled up her lips. "Deacon Charles."  
  
"Ah, you must be Miss Gilmore." Prudence's father stood. "It's a pleasure to meet you. This is my daughter, Prudence."  
  
"Oh, yes." Miss Gilmore's dark eyes met Prudence's clear blue ones. "So nice to meet you both. It will be a great delight to have a lovely young lady such as she here."  
  
Miss Gilmore was a tall, stately figure, who seemed stern and grim, but somehow charismatic in her own right. She was a poised, powerful presence. It was hard to read her, though. She was definitely quite young, as there was not one sliver of gray in her jet hair or a single wrinkle, even a laugh line, on her ashen face. She seemed a comely woman, but in a somehow faded way, as if whatever trace of beauty she possessed was tired and worn now.  
  
Not only this, the calm, placid smile she wore just...didn't seem to fit. There was no cheer in it, no light in her eyes. It seemed almost like a decoration on her face rather than part of it.  
  
She looked back at Prudence's father, and turned to leave the parlor. "Do come with me, please."  
  
Prudence walked with her father and Miss Gilmore as the latter informed them on the daily proceedings of school life and showed them around. Prudence gazed around the building as she was escorted, wanting to take everything in, but to her disappointment, it all looked somewhat the same. As Miss Gilmore's chatter faded into the background, though, Prudence heard a few light thumps from upstairs, like footsteps. She figured it was coming from the schoolgirls' room, somewhere above. Maybe they were out of class already and were studying there.  
  
"I am sure your daughter will be quite content here," Miss Gilmore concluded when she had finished explaining things.  
  
"Will you be all right, Prudence?" The deacon asked his daughter, although Prudence knew full well the answer he expected.  
  
"I shall remind you, Deacon Charles, that this is one of the most reputable seminaries for girls in London," came Miss Gilmore's voice. "Your daughter will receive a thorough education in all necessary subjects, and she will emerge from here a culturally, academically, and spiritually enriched young woman."  
  
"I have no doubt about that, Miss Gilmore," Prudence's father said. "I only hope that she will not be lonely and sad while I am gone, for if she is, then even the best education could not help that."  
  
"I absolutely agree," Miss Gilmore enthused. "But the other children here are very kind to one another, and their homesickness lasts but a few days. You can rest assured that someone as sweet and charming as your daughter will make and keep plenty of good friends."  
  
She smiled at them. "Come this way. The girls' room is upstairs. They are all in class at the moment."  
  
She then led them up the staircase and down the hallway.  
  
As they passed, the door facing the staircase, in the middle of the hall, creaked loudly as it opened slightly. Miss Gilmore's head snapped towards it, but it quickly closed when Prudence and her father glanced at it.  
  
"My apologies." Miss Gilmore laughed a little, a bit nervously, although there was some hardness in her voice. "That room once held a linen closet, and the door is very old and rickety now."  
  
"What is in there now?" Prudence inquired curiously.  
  
"I cannot answer that, Prudence, and I must tell you to never go near that room," Miss Gilmore commanded. "If you ever see the door open again, do not look inside. Do not even close it. Just pay it no mind. It is my business only, no place for you or any of the other children to know of. If you disobey this, or any of my rules, there will be serious consequences. Do you understand?"  
  
Prudence was silent for a moment, but replied, "Yes, madam. I can respect that."  
  
"Good." Miss Gilmore nodded before taking a few more steps and opening a door at the end of the hall. "Here is your room."  
  
Prudence and her father looked inside to see a large, plain room filled with many beds. Three towering windows took up almost the entire opposite wall, from which light from the white-gray sky shone through and filled the room.  
  
"Your bed is the one right there, Prudence." Miss Gilmore gestured to the bed closest to the door. "You will start school on Monday and meet the other children then. Do either of you have any questions?"  
  
Prudence shook her head. "No, madam."  
  
"I do not either, Miss Gilmore. I am sure Prudence will be just fine here," her father replied. "But I do need to be leaving soon, so I think I should say my goodbyes to her now."  
  
"I will you leave you to that, then." Miss Gilmore turned and left the room.  
  
Prudence walked into the room, her booted feet dully tapping the hard wooden floor as she gazed around. She ran her hand along the smooth fabric of the coverlet and watched the clear raindrops specking the thick glass window.  
  
"You will write to me, won't you, Prudence?" came her father's voice from behind her.  
  
Prudence turned around. "Of course, Father."  
  
Deacon Charles smiled warmly at her, then pulled her into his arms. "I am sure you will be happy here, my angel, but stay focused on your studies, too. I love you and I'll see you soon."  
  
"I love you too, Father." Prudence held tightly onto him before releasing him.   
  


~

Prudence was not too homesick at first, but that Sunday, she found herself missing her father especially strongly. This was because she attended that morning, with the other schoolgirls, the first mass where her father would not be there to give a sermon.

She prayed that God would give her strength and peace of mind in this time. From beside her, she felt a hand squeeze her shoulder. She glanced to her left to see a girl who looked a little older than her, with warm auburn hair, clear green eyes, and a small, soft smile. Prudence had thought uncomfortably at first that her own light hair and eyes looked too jarring compared to the somber surroundings at school. She felt that she stood out inappropriately even in her school uniform, the starched little black dress, crisp white apron, and big white hair bow. But this girl was quite visibly a splash of color. She didn't seem at all apologetic for it, though.

Prudence was determined to study hard and honor her spiritual commitments. She truly wanted to make her father proud...him, and her mother, up in Heaven. They meant everything to her, as did the future that awaited her. Prudence did not know all of the details of what her father had planned for her, or what her mother's wishes for her may have been, but she trusted it wholeheartedly and was eager to fulfill it.


	2. Chapter 2

Prudence learned later that the girl who had been beside her in church was named Margaret, and she met her other friends, too.  
  
Margaret had been gracious enough to introduce her to some other girls, and catch her up in their schoolwork. In the middle of the week that evening, they were all huddled together studying French by candlelight.  
  
"I have been to France before," a girl named Eloise remarked, tossing a lock of her long chestnut hair over her shoulder. She was only a year older than most of the others in their group, and had a vain, flippant, rather haughty demeanor, as if she thought very highly of herself amongst everyone else around her.  
  
"Have you?" A girl named Ione raised her eyebrows behind her clear, shiny glasses, as if she did not quite believe Eloise's claim. Then she lowered her eyes back to her French book, seeming not truly interested in the pompous girl's tales. Prudence herself could not guess if Eloise was telling the truth.  
  
"I have, indeed," Eloise reiterated. "It's a quite— no,  _very_  lovely place. I should definitely want to study up on my French if I want to live there one day."  
  
"Do you need help with anything?" Margaret offered.  
  
"I shall be just fine, thank you." Eloise raised her chin proudly. "I can speak and understand this fine language thus far as if it were destined for my tongue. I think soon enough  _I_  shall be the one that all of  _you_  come to for help."  
  
Ione sighed quietly and glanced sideways at Prudence, who too found herself wishing that Margaret had not offered help to Eloise and stroked her ego. It was a kind gesture, but it was obvious that Eloise thought herself above needing help.  
  
"You must tell us all about your trip to France, then, Ellie," a girl named Cordelia enthused, her bright brown eyes shining as she leaned forward over her French book.  
  
"Please, some other time," Ione insisted, still not looking up from her own French book. "Some of us prefer to work towards the vision of our future, rather than twaddle on about it all night, and should like to do so undisturbed."  
  
From beside Prudence, a girl named Catherine giggled.  
  
"It was quite a long time ago, anyways," Eloise explained. "I was but eight years old, from what I remember. I should love to return one day, and take all of you with me."  
  
" _So_  very kind of you." Ione turned the page of her French book.  
  
"Of course, Honey." A smirk curled up Eloise's face.  
  
Ione frowned. "Do stop calling me that."  
  
Eloise only laughed.  
  
"So, what brings you here, Prudence?" Catherine asked.  
  
"Oh, don't pry, Kitty!" Eloise chided her.  
  
"No, it's all right," Prudence replied. "My father is on a mission trip, so he sent me here. He thought it would further both my basic education and my Christian studies."  
  
"Ah, so we have a good little church girl here now," Eloise taunted.  
  
Margaret smiled warmly. "I think he certainly was right. I've been here for six years and I scarcely even miss me home country anymore. I've made the loveliest friends here."  
  
"We love you too, Maggie." Cordelia grinned, wrapping her arm around Margaret and squeezing her.  
  
Prudence found herself right at home amongst the other students as they studied, laughed, and told stories together. Something had not quite felt right before...Prudence was not sure if it was about the students, Miss Gilmore, or the school itself. But she was starting to become very happy. She could tell that these were intelligent, kind, helpful girls, so she was confident that she would excel in her studies with their help and build lasting friendships with them.


	3. Chapter 3

Each weekday morning after breakfast, Prudence would be led into the vast classroom by her new friends, with their bright, fresh faces, their vibrant energy, their laughter. Some of the other girls were like them, cheerful and social. There were others who were quieter and more solitary. This seemed to be mostly amongst the older students, who were shedding their girlish bounce in favor of the refined, demure manner of a young woman. There was a subtle sort of charm to this, Prudence thought, to be delicate and reserved in such a way. It gave one a certain mysterious, alluring air.  
  
There were so many sounds around Prudence at this time. There was the chirp of the schoolgirls' excited voices, the rumble of wooden desks and chairs being shifted, then eventually the tap of Miss Gilmore's heels on the floor and her loud, commanding voice as class started. When all the girls had settled and quieted then, Prudence noticed that despite their diverse personalities and behaviors, they looked so very similar at this time. They were then a classroom of the same girls, at the same tight little desks, in the same starched little black dresses with crisp white aprons and big white bows in their hair. The only noticeable variance between them was the color of their hair and eyes, and small differences in their facial features. They were a class of proper, elegant, and quite pretty young schoolgirls, just as they were meant to be. In their stillness and focus, they almost looked like dolls.  
  
It was in this schoolroom that Prudence sat one day at her hard wooden desk, her schoolwork strewn about in front of her. She was beside Margaret, who was leaning her faintly rosy cheek on her pale hand and very much engrossed in their teacher's lecture. Ione was even more so, holding the hard, intense focus of a young scholar. Cordelia and Catherine seemed quite serene, glancing down at their notes at some points and back up at Miss Gilmore at others, listening with just mild interest. Prudence sat with her elbow on her desk and her chin resting in her hand, her long flaxen hair brushing her shoulders. Her legs were relaxed, aside from her left foot tapping impatiently against the limb of the desk behind her...the desk that held Eloise, who was sitting uncomfortably close to her, and did so with a knowing smugness.  
  
"Miss Monaghan!" Miss Gilmore shouted at Eloise, as she would use the girls' last names when she would be especially strict. "Stop pestering Miss Blackwood at once! I will keep you after class if I see you at this again!"  
  
From beside her, Cordelia and Catherine snickered.  
  
Prudence had found that for such a stately, composed woman on the surface, Miss Gilmore could have quite an explosive temper at times like these.  
  
But when the class was settled, every now and then, Prudence would listen especially closely to an important teaching and be sure to jot it down in her notes for further reference. She was determined to study hard and perform well here. She would at some points, around the middle of class, find herself in a steady, rhythmic stream of attentiveness—  
  
 ** _Thud. Thud. Thud._**  
  
Then there were those...the creaks and pounds of the floorboards above, breaking Prudence's concentration and causing her to glance up in confusion as to what they could be. Strangely enough, neither the other students nor Miss Gilmore reacted to them. Were they accustomed to hearing this?  
  
She asked both Ione and Margaret about it later, knowing that Eloise, Cordelia, and Catherine would most likely spin some ridiculous tale about it.  
  
"It's only the building settling. I asked Miss Gilmore," Ione told her. Margaret reported the same.  
  
There was no further discussion about it beyond that. Maybe that was actually all it was. Prudence was not going to worry over such a small thing, though. She heard it at night too, more often, and it was sometimes a bit perturbing, for it sounded like something was moving while she, the other girls, and their teacher were at rest. But that was when she just called to mind what her friends had said, sent up a prayer, and tried to calm down and let sleep embrace her. Margaret had playfully told Prudence once that she and the others would protect her in these times at night.  
  
It also turned out that, though she hid it carefully, Eloise was not quite as proficient in French as she boasted. When they were studying, Prudence often heard her mispronounce certain accents and syllables, and jumble up the structure of longer sentences. None of the other girls would dare correct her, though. Margaret struggled a bit with it, too, specifically in pronunciation, as her lilting Irish accent would often clash with it, seeming to insist on its way over the foreign language. Prudence was delighted to help her friend the best she could when she needed it, though. She really was content with where she was, in the school and in the friendships she had made, just as the way things were.


	4. Chapter 4

Prudence and her friends were seated at a hard mahogany desk together in the somber, silent study hall late that afternoon. Each desk was covered in the students' schoolwork spread out around them, crisp white papers and fat, heavy textbooks, along with inkwells and quills. Surrounding each desk and diligently attending to the schoolwork were set, solid groups of pupils, from little girls to those almost into womanhood, model schoolgirls hard at work.  
  
No sound pervaded the study hall other than the turning of pages and the booted footsteps of Miss Gilmore, who was pacing around to make sure all of the students were working.  
  
There was also the very carefully whispered "What does this say?" from one student to another when struggling with a more difficult French phrase, although they were careful to make sure their teacher would not hear them.  
  
This was lost on Eloise, though, who kept chatting with the other girls. She tried to keep her voice as hushed as she could, but it was fairly obvious that Miss Gilmore heard her, as she walked by and sent yet another frown towards Eloise.  
  
"Ellie, she's going to take out the ruler on you!" Catherine whispered sharply. She and Cordelia tittered.  
  
"Would she do that?" Prudence gasped.  
  
"No, no!" Margaret insisted flippantly. "She's never done it to anyone, at least while we've been here. If she hit any of us, though, it'd be Ellie."  
  
They both snickered at that. Margaret wrapped her arm around Prudence and squeezed her. "You have nothing to worry about."  
  
Prudence smiled.  
  
"That's right, you're too good to get in any trouble." Cordelia patted Prudence's shoulder.  
  
"Perhaps she is so good she would." Eloise's eyes widened as if she had discovered some great wisdom.  
  
"What  _are_  you on about?" Ione's eyebrows knit together behind her glasses.  
  
The rest of the girls giggled.  
  


~

  
Later when the sun had set for the day and the moon rose up, a curtain of black descending upon London, Prudence found herself singing an idle tune and swaying to the melody as she drew back the covers from her bed.  
  
"Alas, my love, you do me wrong to cast me out discourteously...and I have loved you for so long, delighting in your company... Greensleeves was all my joy, Greensleeves was my delight, Greensleeves was my heart of gold, and who but Lady Greensleeves..."  
  
It was a sweet song that she enjoyed singing, especially drawing out some of the words.  
  
"'Tis a pretty song."  
  
Prudence looked up to see Margaret smiling over at her from a few beds away, her long auburn hair swept over one shoulder.  
  
She smiled. "Are there any songs from Ireland that you take a fancy to?" she asked her.  
  
Margaret flopped onto her bed, looked up at the ceiling for a moment, then snickered.  
  
"What is it?" Prudence grinned.  
  
Margaret started to sing, "Well, as I came home on a Monday night, as drunk as drunk could be—"  
  
Prudence had an idea of where this was going, but that was when Eloise threw a pillow at Margaret.  
  
"Don't corrupt her innocence!" she yelled playfully.  
  
Margaret pushed the pillow off of herself and roughly tossed it back at Eloise, almost knocking the latter off her bed in doing so.  
  
"What is the song?" Prudence asked Margaret.  
  
Margaret continued on it. It was a shockingly bawdy song from her home country, about a heavily drinking husband whose unfaithful wife used his drunken confusion to hide her infidelity. When he grew suspicious of some strange objects he noticed around their house, which really were tokens and belongings of his wife's lover, she always insisted he was mistaking them for household gifts from her mother.  
  
"Me father always loved the song...but me mother told him not to sing it 'round me," Margaret laughed, and pulled the covers over herself. "I'll see you in the morning."  
  
"Good night, Maggie." Prudence took a moment to pray before bed, then climbed in and laid her head against the pillow as one of the girls blew out the candle.  
  
The full moon was bright and clear enough for Prudence to see it out the window tonight, a silvery white disc that glowed where it hung in the velvet black sky, the endless expanse that surrounded and overshadowed all other things. Some gossamer, sooty clouds passed by the beaming orb, shrouding it for a few moments like a dark gray veil, giving the night an eerie, almost ominous feel. When the clouds unveiled it, though, Prudence noticed just how beamingly bright it was, almost unnaturally so.  
  
Still, Prudence found calm and rest come to her as a quietus settled over the room and her eyelids grew heavy. Tomorrow was another day, just like every other, alongside the friends she had come to cherish.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case any of you live on YouTube like me and have been to the "weird part of YouTube," you might have noticed the video "Illusion of Bias" there, and figured out now that this story has been based partly off of it. I DO NOT OWN THE VIDEO, NOR DO I CLAIM CREDIT FOR ANY OF ITS CONTENT. It is owned by Alexander Bizarski and Influential Pictures, and was uploaded by MindCBase. Go check it out here https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UDZBzXa6BUM  
> NOTE: I HAVE NOT WATCHED THE VIDEO IN FULL. I'm too much of a scaredy cat ^^; So proceed at your own risk.

**_"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhh!"_**  
  
The piercing shriek reverberated off the walls and into Prudence's ears in the middle of that night, jarring her violently out of her steady, serene rest. Her eyes snapped open and she jolted up in bed, shivering as cold sweat broke out on her beneath her nightgown, and gathered the covers around herself for warmth.  
  
She glanced warily around her to see the vast bedroom cloaked in the shadow of night, save for a few shafts of light from the now fully revealed moon streaming through the windows. It was completely clear and barren around her, other than the girls residing within, who all lay as calm and still as the night itself. There was an unnerving silence now, with no trace of the scream left, but Prudence was sure she had heard it.  
  
Some of the girls must have heard it, too. Several of them faintly moaned, shifted in bed, and opened their tired eyes for a moment, but only to close them again and burrow themselves back under the covers. The stiff, papery sheets crinkled around them as they did.  
  
"What was that...?" the girl next to Prudence murmured.  
  
Prudence wondered, feeling somewhat awkward, if this had been her own scream, during or after some nightmare that she did not remember...but it settled on her that the scream was not at all like her own. It was definitely not her own after something like a nightmare. Prudence never had very frequent or graphic nightmares, and she knew the occasional one to be ephemeral and unreal, no matter how frightful it could be. This scream was deafeningly loud, clear, and shrill, and could have only been provoked by something very real and horrifying... It was a harrowing sound, of sheer horror, pain...and what seemed like disgust...  
  
It had definitely not been someone outside, for Prudence had heard it as though it had been right beside her.  
  
This must have been because her bed was the closest one to the door.  
  
She wanted, with the other girls whose sleep had been interrupted by this painful shriek, to gather the covers back around herself, cower in bed, and squeeze her eyes shut, hoping whatever this had been would just go away and not bother her. If anything was wrong, surely Miss Gilmore would take care of it. Her bedroom was just down the hall.  
  
She waited patiently in bed, listening carefully for even the faintest of footsteps, watching for the slightest flicker of candlelight to filter through the crack under the door of the bedroom. But she heard nothing...  
  
Except what she thought was someone across the hall softly gasping, as if in fear.  
  
Prudence's blood froze. What had happened? Was it one of the girls?  
  
She  _had_  to see what was happening. She just had to, as dangerous as she knew it could be...  
  
She rose from her bed tentatively and lit a candle, the brightening of her surroundings alleviating her nerves a bit. Perhaps Miss Gilmore was already looking into it...Prudence only hoped that she would stumble upon her teacher tending to another girl who had sustained a minor but startling injury, and she would be reassured that it was all right and sent back to bed. Still, her trepidation rose to a brimming point within her as she made her way to the door of the bedroom, turned the knob, and stepped outside the room into the hallway.  
  
"Hello?" she called out loudly, her voice trembling at the end.  
  
That was when a hush fell over the hallway. Prudence froze in place. She was afraid, in this strange building in the dead of night where she had heard—  
  
Suddenly the sound of rushing footsteps pounded into the floor, making Prudence jump, and out the corner of her eye, she saw a figure dart across the hallway...into the room that she and the other students had been forbidden to traverse near.  
  
"Who's there?" Prudence demanded, her whole body trembling, the dim golden light of the candle bouncing across the walls. Could someone have broken in...? She tried to calm down and tell herself it was unlikely...maybe it was just the wind, or one of the girls had run into the wrong room...but...  
  
Wait, how even had that strange figure gone into there? Miss Gilmore never forgot to lock the door...  
  
Prudence knew she was not supposed to enter. She had never even wanted to. It was not her place. But she was very worried...one of the girls might have been scared or hurt and dashed into there in a state of frantic confusion...  
  
Prudence took a deep breath as she stepped toward the door to the forbidden room, turned the knob, and carefully pushed it open. It creaked softly as she did.  
  
What she saw then as she peeked in...  
  
Perplexed her, really.  
  
It turned out the secret room was a makeshift bedroom. There was a girl, lying facedown on a bed, with the sheets strewn about her. A cascade of black hair covered her and she wore a thin white nightgown. She appeared to be about twelve years old, from what could be seen of her form, yet Prudence did not think she had ever seen the girl before now. Her face was jammed into the pillow, her arms squeezing it, and her body was nearly convulsing with faint sobs.  
  
"...Are you all right?" Prudence asked, coming towards her.  
  
The girl gasped sharply and sank her face further into the pillow.  
  
"Don't be afraid," Prudence said softly. "I won't hurt you."  
  
The girl's shaking calmed, but Prudence could tell she was still afraid. Why?  
  
...  
  
Was someone actually here? Had they hurt her?  
  
Prudence scrutinized the small, boxy room, then slowly turned to glance over her shoulder, but all she saw was the expanse of the empty hallway, cast in the shadow of night.  
  
She turned back around and took a few more steps forward, then, as quietly as she could so as not to scare the poor girl even more, set the candle on the nightstand and sat on the edge of the bed beside her.  
  
Then she reached over and gingerly laid her hand on the girl's shoulder.  
  
The girl flinched violently, and shielded her face with her hands. "No!"  
  
"It's all right," Prudence tried to reassure her, stroking the girl's shoulder, which she noticed felt rather hard and bony. "You're safe. I won't hurt you."  
  
"No...don't look..." the girl sobbed, turning her face away.  
  
What was wrong here...?  
  
With some pressure, Prudence grabbed the girl by her shoulders and pulled her up from the bed. The girl sat still in front of her, but kept her head lowered and her pale hands over her face, her long black hair draped in front of it.  
  
Prudence gently took the girl's wrists and tried to move her hands away from where they covered her face, but they wouldn't budge.  
  
"I just want to help. Can you tell me what's wrong? Please?" Prudence's finger had slipped under the girl's palm and brushed her cheek when she tried to move her hands away, and the girl's skin, oddly enough, felt...lumpy and rough, as if swollen, to the touch, deepening Prudence's worry.  
  
The girl's grip over her face loosened then, and her hands relaxed. Prudence gently pushed them out of the way—  
  
Then jumped back and, before she could stifle it, let out a shrill, soprano gasp.  
  
This was worse than she had feared.  
  
The girl was hideous and deformed, gruesomely so. Her face was mangled and littered in scar tissue, with certain parts out of their natural place. A thick flap of skin, that extended from her nose down to about the corner of her mouth, seemed to be severed from the rest of her face, as if it were a separate piece that had been sewn on. It hung from her left cheek like a sliver of meat. Her eyes bulged out, and her nose appeared squashed and to have been pushed upward. Her teeth were rotted and decayed, many of them missing, and framed by very thin lips. This was all shrouded beneath a thick layer of skin that looked as though it were melting or collapsing.  
  
She was staring at Prudence with horror in her wide, bulbous eyes, a certain shame in them too, tears rolling down her ruined, scarred cheeks.  
  
Prudence was shaking like a leaf now, cold with terror. She couldn't help it, though she didn't want to hurt the girl's feelings. More so than that, she wondered...  
  
"W-What happened t-to you?" she breathed.  
  
The girl didn't respond, but sadness filled her eyes.  
  
Prudence stepped toward her, very slowly, since she could scarcely believe what she was seeing...  
  
She wasn't sure what to do, though. She just stood there.  
  
"What was that noise? What's going on? Wait...where's Prudence?" She heard the mumbles and sharp whispers suddenly, amongst beds creaking and feet padding across the floor. The other girls must have heard the commotion.  
  
With a gust of breath Prudence blew out the candle to hide the girl in the darkness, then promptly hurried down the stairs.  
  
"It's all right! I just fell!" she called.  
  
"What? Prudence, is that you?" It was Ione.  
  
Prudence raised herself to stand, leaning against the wall for support and clasping her shin in her hand, as though it were injured.  
  
"Yes, it's me," she answered. "I went to go to the water closet, but I fell down the stairs." Wait, she still had to explain away the gasp. "I just...panicked. But I'm all right."  
  
"Are you sure? Do you need any help?" came Margaret's gentle, melodic voice.  
  
"No, I really am fine. But thank you, Maggie," Prudence replied.  
  


~

  
While heading back to her room after the other girls had left, Prudence heard someone softly crying.  
  
"Come with me, child." She just barely heard Miss Gilmore's whispered voice.  
  
Was she talking to the girl that Prudence had discovered? She must have been... Suddenly Prudence had a lot of questions...  
  
By the time she reached the top of the stairs, Miss Gilmore had already ushered the girl back into her room and locked the door.  
  
"So. You found her," she remarked, not turning towards Prudence.  
  
Prudence didn't respond. She noticed that her teacher, now in her nightgown and with her jet hair flowing loose, very much resembled the girl in the room, in subtle ways. They both had long black hair, pale skin, and dark eyes. Their voices sounded the same too, Miss Gilmore's just a bit lower.  
  
"You must be very worried about her, are you not?" Miss Gilmore asked her sternly.  
  
"Yes..." Prudence breathed. She stared up at her teacher. "Who is she? Why is she here?"  
  
"I was a governess previously," Miss Gilmore began. "For a kind and gracious family I enjoyed working for, and who took care of me well. I could have been happy.  
  
"But then I went and had a...dalliance with the children's father," she spat. "I was young and reckless then. You would never see me make such a mistake today. Now God has bestowed my due punishment for it."  
  
"What...happened to her?" Prudence gasped.  
  
Miss Gilmore shook her head. "It was a terrible accident. She fell very ill some time ago, and the doctors treated her, but in the process, they...severely disfigured her. As you saw." She paused. "They said there had been complications... Such a thing had happened that she lost perception of her own face. She would be able to see all other things around her, but only a blank disc where her face was. Naturally, as she grew up, she became insecure over it.  
  
"I could never tell her, though. What she really looked like." She sighed. "I tried to tell her it was foolish and wasteful to worry over something she could not change. I told her that as a Christian, she should be grateful for what she has and not want for what she lacks. And...I never thought she would be able to see herself again, but... I knew it when I heard her scream and did not find her in her room..."  
  
"So...you kept her locked away in here, alone and miserable?" Prudence tried to keep her voice from rising.  
  
"What else was I to do?" Miss Gilmore snapped. "She would be reviled in social circles, she has  _no_  chance of finding a husband...and she could be put in one of those vulgar freak shows." She sighed again. "They would despise her out there. This is the only way for me to protect her. The only way she can be safe."  
  
She met Prudence's eyes. "You should stay away from her from now on. I took every last measure so that no student would ever see her...only for this to occur. She seems very upset about it, too. It would be best for her if you just pretended this never happened."  
  
"But she's all alone," Prudence said sadly.  
  
"Don't worry about it. I'm her mother, I'll take care of her," Miss Gilmore retorted. "This is a harsh and cruel world we live in, Prudence. No one else could, or would, carry this burden for as long as I have."  
  


~

  
Prudence was sent back to bed after that, but sleep would not find her. She could not tear her thoughts away from that girl, as hard as she tried. Her face...so marred and misshapen...so filled with shock and sadness and anguish...that she had been locked in there away from everyone but her mother...that she was all alone...  
  
Prudence closed her eyes, against it all, and shuddered at the thoughts that were racing through her. So much had happened in one night. This girl had seen her face for what it really was, and now Prudence had seen it, too...and she knew now what her teacher had been hiding... She couldn't even believe this. It seemed so surreal...  
  
She took a few deep breaths, trying to calm herself down, then sent up a desperate prayer and tried to let herself sleep. Nothing tonight had changed that she had school tomorrow...even if she thought she would never be able to face her teacher the same way again.


	6. Chapter 6

In the small room across from the staircase, bars of light from the wan rising sun glowed from the tiny window, dust floating through the air, above a girl who lay sleeping in bed, still and motionless. Her jet hair was sprawled around her, some of it sticking to the sweat on her brow, and her nightgown had ridden up to just above her knees. Her chest slowly rose and fell as she took heavy, weary breaths. She fared no better now, nor hours before, than she seemed at this moment. Her sleep was not restless, but it was not peaceful either. It seemed given up, resigned into silence.  
  
It was at this time that her mother made preparations for the day as the students readied themselves. She had already set up their lessons and all else that needed to be taken care of first. Now, while her students busied themselves freshening up and dressing, she quietly and secretly tended to the aftereffects of a sudden illness that had befallen her daughter. It must have been from the stress of last night.  
  
The child was baseborn, misbegotten. She was a mistake. She was worthless. Miss Gilmore had always believed that. She did still as, with an exasperated sigh, she gathered the sheets in her arms, which were stained from when the girl had vomited at some point early that morning.  
  
She stood there for a moment, just staring sternly at the exhausted girl as she lay sleeping soundly. She looked away, and was about to leave when...  
  
She was not sure if it was out of impulse, just making sure, some deeply buried motherly instinct, or what it was, but she walked up to the girl's side then and gently felt her forehead for a fever.  
  
There seemed to be none, so she set off to join her students for breakfast, knowing they would be there by now.  
  


~

  
Last night, after what had happened, Prudence was given the mercy of only a few hours of rest until morning. When the rays of the risen sun broke in, she was exhausted, her tired eyes aching, burning, pleading for more sleep. Laying in bed felt like basking in heavenly comfort in that moment. She did not want to leave it.  
  
She did not want to face the world again.  
  
She lifted herself up anyways as the other girls did, though. She felt in doing so like a frustrated, impatient foreign spirit struggling to fully inhabit a shambling, cumbersome body. She trudged through the morning tasks of making her bed, washing up, and dressing, while the other girls flitted through theirs by comparison, as if nothing had changed.  
  
When the other girls had all gone downstairs for breakfast, Prudence remained. She had just finished tying the bow in her hair when she stepped out into the hallway and saw Miss Gilmore still there, too.  
  
Despite both of them having missed some sleep, Miss Gilmore looked as sharp, stately, and indifferent as ever...except, to Prudence's surprise, she was carrying a bed sheet in her arms...  
  
Then Prudence noticed that a murky taupe stain soiled the white sheet. A strongly foul stench arose from it.  
  
"Good morning, Prudence," Miss Gilmore greeted her nonchalantly.  
  
"What's this?" Prudence asked about the sheet.  
  
Miss Gilmore glanced at it. "Oh. One of the girls fell ill early this morning."  
  
Prudence stared at her.  
  
Miss Gilmore frowned. "If you must know, yes, it was her."  
  
She started to walk away, until she noticed that Prudence still lingered there.  
  
"Well, do run along to breakfast," she said to Prudence from over her shoulder. "Your friends are waiting for you."  
  


~

  
Prudence found that all day long, Margaret kept asking if she was all right. Somehow, Prudence did not think that was about her feigned injury the night before... She was feeling very conflicted, and she hoped that did not show on her face.  
  
The day carried on as usual. Nothing, and no one, seemed to have changed. Except for her.  
  
Prudence tried as hard as she could to focus on her teacher's lesson, but all of the words just seemed to collapse and fall away. She found herself taking down notes mindlessly, not bothering to stop and take in what they meant.  
  
She could not tear the events of last night from her thoughts. They kept flashing across her mind, so vividly. Prudence remembered the sights, sounds, touches, and emotions as if she had felt them just mere moments ago. The piercing scream. The pounding on the floorboards. The dim golden candlelight. The tiny, cramped little room. Most of all, the girl, in her white nightgown, her hair as dark as the night, her small, pale, thin form...and her face.  
  
These images were the more bearable ones, though. Then there was what was behind it all. Prudence could not bear to let that thought enter her. The moment she did, other thoughts seemed to scream in protest, as if pushing a door closed against it.  
  
It was a painful truth, but Prudence did not want to close herself off from the girl. It wasn't right. She must be so lonely...  
  
She wanted to respect her teacher, but...why would Miss Gilmore cast her own daughter away from all others apart from herself? ...Well...Prudence knew, but it just didn't seem right, especially for the girl to be left there companionless. She could only imagine the girl sitting there, silent and depressed in isolation, as the students laughed and frisked by, blissfully oblivious and so jovial and free by comparison.  
  
Prudence crushed the heel of her hand to her brow, as if to hold in the sorrow that threatened to consume her. She let out a shuddering breath, trying to calm herself. It would be so much easier to rip this all apart, cast it away, make it disappear into the darkness of oblivion. It should not have happened to her. It had never been meant to.  
  
But did that even matter?  
  
What was that girl doing now? How was she feeling? Was she all right?  
  
Prudence sighed at herself. Of course the girl wasn't all right! She had been so upset last night... How would she ever be able to live with this?  
  
How could this have happened to her?  
  
Prudence took deep breaths, trying to slow her racing, tormented thoughts. She understood her teacher's intent to protect her daughter from the harsh judgment and scorn of others. Still, did this really warrant barring her from  _all_ others, depriving her of friendships, that were so enriching and nurturing to the growth of young girls?  
  
There was this, and...Prudence hated to think this way, but...was even Miss Gilmore's company enough for the girl? Prudence knew very well that the love of a parent could be incredibly strong and truly a gift from God. But was it enough...and was Miss Gilmore really a good mother? Prudence knew her teacher to be a strict, impersonal, and sometimes cold woman, but...she had called her own daughter a burden and a punishment. Even if she had been feeling overtired and cross at that time in the middle of the night, Prudence could not see either of her own parents ever calling her such things, or those of her friends, no matter how they felt. She had seen her own father visibly stressed and grieved before, by her mother's death, by the plight of the poor in his duties as a Christian deacon...but that had never changed his regards for his daughter, or his love for her.  
  
Prudence really was worried... But was there anything she could do about this?   
  
Taking a glance upward at the rickety ceiling between the two of them, then lowering her eyes to her desk again, she felt some sort of conviction within herself, something quiet but powerful moving her. She thought...  
  
Maybe there was something she could do.


	7. Chapter 7

"I shall never be able to wait until Christmas," Eloise announced.  
  
She had declared it out of nowhere, while the girls readied themselves for bed. Margaret was sitting cross-legged on Eloise's bed behind her, plaiting her hair. Eloise sat upright as she did so, as though she were a princess perfectly accustomed to it.  
  
Cordelia laughed out loud as she ran a brush through her own hair. "It's not even the end of September, you silly goose!"  
  
Eloise laid her head back on Margaret's shoulder, as if tiredly. "Yes, but I am ever so sick of this. I cannot wait until we can wear our furs, see our families, open presents—"  
  
"'Twill be cold, though." Margaret leaned her head over Eloise's shoulder. "Then you will wish for autumn again."  
  
She finished plaiting Eloise's hair, tying it at the end and sweetly kissing it.  
  
"Then I'll cuddle with Honey." Eloise bounded over to Ione's bed, where she sat reading, and pounced on her so hard the book fell from her hands.  
  
Ione scooted away from her. "Sod off, you hussy. You'll do no such thing."  
  
"Yes, I will," Eloise insisted, playfully nuzzling her head between Ione's neck and shoulder.  
  
"There's not even room," Ione said, sounding more annoyed as she tried to push Eloise away.  
  
"That's why I'd cuddle with you," Eloise teased.  
  
"I said no." Ione smacked Eloise on the head, as Prudence had noticed was her wont when Eloise acted dumb or immature.  
  
"That's quite enough, you two." Margaret stepped in and dragged Eloise away. "You'll be in trouble if Miss Gilmore comes by."  
  
"Pshhh, that stringent hag doesn't scare me," Eloise boasted.  
  
"Hush now, she'll hear you," Margaret hissed as she pushed Eloise onto her bed.  
  
"Yes,  _Mother_ ," Eloise snapped.  
  
Unfazed, even a little smug, Margaret blew out the candle. "Good night, you."  
  


~

Prudence waited until the crinkling of the bed sheets quieted, all the girls had settled in their beds, and complete silence fell over the room. She was not sure quite how much time passed, but when she gazed around the room to see the other girls motionless and most likely asleep in their beds, and the only sounds coming from halfway down the hall, this seemed like the right time.

She rolled onto her side in bed, facing the door, then lifted the covers off of herself and touched her bare feet to the wooden floor beneath her. She rose from the bed as carefully as she could and took a few tentative steps toward the door, hoping none of the floorboards would creak under her feet. She breathed a sigh of relief when all remained quiet, and she made it to the door without a sound.

She then turned the knob and opened it to allow only a sliver of entry, and eased through the narrow space, closing the door behind her. A sense of trepidation settled on her, though, once she was out in the dark hallway.

Her teacher's room was at the other end.

And halfway down the hall, only several more steps and a wooden door separating them, was the girl from last night.

What if she was caught?

There was no reason for her to be, though... Miss Gilmore must have been asleep. Most, if not all, of the other girls must have been, too...so she would be fine as long as she kept quiet.

If she  _was_  caught and forced to tell the truth, she need only tell Miss Gilmore that she meant to offer comfort to the girl about what had happened last night. Even if the girl needed space, it truly did not feel right to Prudence to leave her alone to the demons of her sadness and fear. Surely her teacher would understand. If she was told to leave the girl alone from then on, Prudence would agree to this. Whether she would follow through with that, though...again, she could not reconcile herself to the thought. Here she was, the only one other than Miss Gilmore who knew of the girl's existence...she felt, deep within herself, that she could not just abandon the girl in such a state of vulnerability, when she seemed more in need of companionship than anything.

If one of the other girls caught her...Prudence did not think this likely, and she sincerely hoped it would not happen. Not only would she be held in suspicion for approaching the forbidden room, if any of the other girls were to see the one who resided within...

She could do this, though. She would do it. No one would ever know. She stood in front of the door to the girl's room, noticing for the first time that a dim light could be just barely seen under it if she looked closely. She glanced to each side of her one last time, then raised a slightly trembling fist to the door.

_**Knock, knock, knock.** _   



	8. Chapter 8

Lucretia found that most nights, within her tiny room in the middle of the upper floor, sleep would not embrace her until a few hours after her mother's students, in the large room down the hall, had fallen asleep. This was some time after their playful, lively laughter and chatter died down, and a quiescence fell over the upper floor.  
  
She would stay up then, reading or sketching or writing quietly, by the dim candlelight in the enclosed space, until an eventual weariness came over her. She might have felt carefree and untroubled in that time, being the only active presence in the school, with no one to know of her at all...if she was truly free. She was just as suppressed and silenced at this time as she was by day. She was, by night, to stay in there and make no sound so as not to disturb the rest, or pique the curiosity, of the blissfully unknowing students.  
  
If she became emotional then, in the oppressive stillness and isolation that seemed to close in on her in the confined space, she would have to stifle it...she knew not to make the same mistake she had last night. Not after her mother had taken every step to keep her hidden. She knew her mother had been displeased then...she no doubt felt that all of the work she had done to keep her daughter an unknown presence had crumbled.  
  
But Lucretia could not help it. There she had found herself, in the water closet, with nothing before her but her own reflection, which she found only then to be a truly grotesque sight. So of course she had screamed! She had truly been frightened. How had she ever been supposed to know before that she looked like  _that?!_  She had perceived her face only as a blank white disc before, so she had no idea. The revelation had practically assaulted her...  
  
Then, only one girl had discovered her. Just one! Even so, she had the same sort of...air about her that the other girls had. She was poised, elegant, refined...and pretty. Just like them. Despite that, there was something different about her. The other girls, especially the ones that this girl surrounded herself with...seemed more sophisticated and sociable, yet flippant and shallow, compared to her. The girl from last night was often more reserved at these times. And Lucretia could not tell if it was the girl's wide, clear blue eyes, her trembling voice, or what it was...but she seemed much more naive, as though she had somehow floated through life thus far untouched by its corruption, even as it manifested itself all around her.  
  
This did not sit well with Lucretia...part of her felt sad about it, knowing this façade of contentment would eventually be shattered. It could not last. The harsh, rough hands of life would pull it apart like a gossamer veil never meant for such pressure. But another part of her was angry...how could this girl be so blind, so cocooned, to the vanity and cruelty that clearly surrounded her?  
  
Yet...she had heard her mother and the girl talking after the incident as they stood outside of the door.  
  
 _"But she's all alone..."_  
  
There was such sadness in the girl's voice then, such poignance...and she was so right about it. So right it hurt.  
  
Her mother had cut the girl off then, insisting in her strict, authoritarian way on being Lucretia's only company.  
  
 _"This is a harsh and cruel world we live in, Prudence. No one else could, or would, carry this burden for as long as I have."_  
  
Prudence...the girl's name was Prudence.  
  
It may come as a surprise that Lucretia knew all of this...but having to be completely still and silent all day and night had sharpened her perception over time.  
  
Besides what had been spoken last night, Lucretia had also heard Prudence agree, on her first day at the school, to be dutiful and obedient to the wishes of her father and teacher...but would she stay true to this?  
  
Lucretia could not help but entertain these whimsical thoughts sometimes. It added a splash of color to her gray, day-to-day life...and she had used to be a curious girl with a fanciful, unworldly imagination. Until...so much had changed last night...  
  
It was in the midst of this reminiscing that she heard the softest of footsteps padding across the floor. Who could that be?  
  
 ** _Knock, knock, knock._**  
  
Three careful, quiet raps sounded on the door.  _That was odd..._  Lucretia thought. What could her mother want with her at this hour?  
  
She slid off her bed and opened the door, slowly so it would not creak much, and just a crack so as not to reveal herself if there happened to be any passersby.  
  
Her heart slammed into her chest.  
  
It was not her mother there.  
  
It was Prudence.  
  


~

  
Prudence drew back for a moment, then stammered, "H-Hello..." She tucked a strand of her flaxen hair behind her ear, as if to distract herself.  
  
Lucretia said nothing. She had come back?  
  
And here  _she_  was, with her hideous, ghastly face uncovered for the sheltered and unsuspecting girl to see from mere inches away. Moreover, she would have put on a clean dress if she had been expecting a guest...and if she had another dress...  
  
This instantly made Lucretia nervous. It felt almost improper to force the girl to behold such a sight, but there was nothing in her room with which to cover herself...  
  
She awkwardly hid her face behind the door, but then Prudence spoke up.  
  
"I-It's all right...I don't mind."  
  
Lucretia peeked out from behind the door, as if to shyly, wordlessly ask the girl if she was sure about that.  
  
Prudence only smiled a bit and nervously clasped her hands in front of her. "I...I wanted to talk to you... May I come in?"  
  
Lucretia considered this. What was the girl's purpose here? Why ever did she want to talk to the occupant of this room, which held such a dire and carefully guarded, and often feared, secret? Lucretia expected someone like her, upon finding out what was behind the door, to close her eyes to this and pretend it had never happened...  
  
She could not be sure that Prudence had not told anyone about her...nor could she be sure that Prudence's intentions here were good ones.  
  
Even so...  
  
She let her in.


	9. Chapter 9

Prudence stepped slowly into the room as the girl closed and locked the door behind her. She noticed at once how tiny and cramped it was. The girl's bed took up about half the space, with a little square window above it. By day, this was probably the only light source. Right now, the room was dimly lit by a faint candle on the nightstand, and a quill and inkwell lay beside it. Across from the bed was a small washstand with a pitcher and basin.  
  
Prudence peered further into the room, taking it in. In one corner at the back, there was a stack of books, the titles on the bindings. Prudence could just barely make out a Bible, various classics, and a few Shakespeare plays. She recognized some of them...but most of them seemed either too young or too advanced for one of the girl's age. Beside them was a shorter stack of a few notebooks, a smaller one on top of them, perhaps a diary. Except for these, almost every surface in the room was covered in a layer of dust.  
  
There was not much to see other than this. Nothing else for the girl to pass the time with, even though she was cloistered in here all day. The tight little space must have never let her dwell there comfortably either. Prudence realized, and it pained her, that her own room at her home was like that of a princess compared to this.  
  
She felt her chest grow even heavier when the overwhelming truth dawned on her that this was the girl's whole life.  
  
She stiffened and quickly glanced over her shoulder when she heard the girl's footsteps behind her. The girl only walked past her, though, and seated herself on the bed. Prudence noticed then that, although she had been able to clearly hear the girl's footsteps from above during class, the girl appeared to move so lightly, like the morning mist. Prudence sat on the edge of the bed across from her.  
  
The golden light from the candle on the nightstand shone on the girl, allowing Prudence to see her more closely than she had last night.  
  
Her long black hair was disheveled and unruly, and she wore the same white nightgown as when Prudence first saw her. Upon closer look, it seemed like it had once been of a fine quality, but after much time and wear, it had grown faded and dingy. It was also stained with sweat and a few drops of a mysterious taupe color. The girl's skin was very pale and she was unhealthily thin, gray shadows and outlines of her bones clearly showing.  
  
Her face, of course, was just the same as it had been last night. That would not change...and both of them knew it.  
  
Prudence turned away, trying not to stare.  
  
"I..." She did not quite know where to start. "...I'm so sorry...about last night. I didn't mean to...do that. To intrude. I was just worried...I thought you had been hurt, or..."  
  
She fell silent for a moment, as the realization settled on her. "I suppose you had been, though. Your... Your mother told me about it..."  
  
The girl said nothing, her eyes downcast and shy.  
  
"I meant you no harm then," Prudence assured her. "I still do not. I have told none of the others about you." She paused then. "I suppose it was better for me to have seen you than one of them... I have made some of the kindest friends, but I don't know about the other girls..."  
  
The girl bristled at Prudence's mention of the others, as if in agreement.  
  
Prudence lowered her eyes to the sheets. "Anyways...I know I should not have frightened you like that, when you were so upset. I wanted to help, but...that probably didn't..."  
  
The girl remained quiet.  
  
Prudence let her gaze drift around the room again. As she did, the sadness came over her again.  
  
"This is where you live..." she said softly.  
  
The girl still did not utter a word, and did not even look up. She just kept still, her head hung and her hands in her lap.  
  
Just from being with the girl, enclosed in this space together, Prudence was starting to feel something inside of her. She was not sure what, but it was startlingly strong and moving... Could the frail, sad girl across from her, who had not spoken or so much as moved since Prudence entered, really have such a powerful presence?  
  
Prudence grasped a handful of the bed sheet, as if to anchor herself against this strange sensation that would overcome her if she did not, and faced the girl again.  
  
"I truly am sorry," she continued. "But...all is safe with me. No one else knows, and I intend not to let them know, for your sake."  
  
Though the girl's stare lingered on the space between them, her focus stayed on Prudence all the same. With the girl's pointed silence and refusal to meet her eyes, Prudence felt as those she was being passively scolded for something... Maybe the girl still had not forgiven her transgression from last night, or she was embittered by what she took as pity or condescension on Prudence's part in coming back. Yet, at the same time, there was a kind of sadness in her lowered gaze, and a certain softness in her protruding yet deep brown eyes, the slightest gleam in her tiny, round pupils. Prudence was conflicted, yet awed, in how she could be both intimidated and moved by this girl at once...  
  
"If you are unhappy with me...that's all right. I..." Prudence meant to say more, but found herself trailing off.  
  
She glanced back down, idly tracing patterns into the bed sheet with her finger, as if to draw out the words she meant to say. "But...I just... I wanted to see you again. I really did. I...did not want to...leave you to this..."  
  
She internally berated herself for stammering like this, but she really did not know how to describe her purpose and what had led her here, let alone what kept her here now. It was there, somewhere within her, but she just could not summon it to her tongue...  
  
Yet even so, the girl met Prudence's eyes after that statement, for the first time since Prudence had entered the room.  
  
This jarred Prudence a little off balance, but she added, softly but firmly, "If... If there's ever anything you need...I will be here. I know you have your mother, but...I'm here, too."  
  
She was not sure if she was overwhelmed, if the catharsis had depleted her energy, or if it was just late at night by then, but Prudence felt herself growing more tired. The fact was, too, that she had class tomorrow. "I...shall have to leave for now."  
  
She paused for a moment, then rose from the bed and walked to the door, opening it carefully and slipping through the crack.  
  
"Good night," she said softly before closing the door behind her.  
  


~

  
Lucretia would not have confess it, not yet, but the truth was she was actually relieved that Prudence had come back. She may have had selfish or malicious intentions for all Lucretia knew, but she truly did seem innocent and genuine. No matter what the reason for her return had been, though, Lucretia had been longing for some form of sincere and caring company. If Prudence had not come back, Lucretia knew she would worry relentlessly over it. Left to her own thoughts, she would grow torturously anxious over what Prudence could be thinking, how she really reacted to last night, if she had told anyone...  
  
She settled herself under the covers in her bed then, pulling them closely around her, and blew out the candle to embrace sleep for the night.


	10. Chapter 10

Prudence had left the girl's room that night feeling almost painfully stiff and awkward, as she carefully made her way back to her own room. Had the hallway always been that long?  
  
Though she tried to drift off to sleep for the night, she did not know what to think. The girl had just sat there, without a word, staring down into nowhere. Prudence had been allowed to tell her thoughts and perspective of what had happened the night before, but not encouraged to do so. As she spoke, the girl had done nothing to deny her statements, but nothing to confirm them, either. If the girl had said but one word, made even the subtlest expression or gesture, Prudence could have gleaned at least some idea of the effect her presence was having. But the girl had not even given her that.  
  
Still, Prudence hoped, in her heart of hearts, that she had left some kind of imprint, even just the slightest. But she knew she would simply have to be patient.  
  


~

  
Prudence entered the classroom that morning with the other girls, trying to look as bright and fresh as she could, and hoping it was not too obvious that the beginnings of a storm roiled within her, while the other girls laughed and chirped playfully as they bounced in.  
  
Then Prudence noticed something when she sat at her desk and lifted her eyes to Miss Gilmore.  
  
She had thought before that she might not be able to look at her teacher the same way again.  
  
She only realized now how true that was.  
  
She consciously saw Miss Gilmore now not only as the teacher of all the pupils here, but as the mother and caregiver of the sad, isolated girl in the tiny room in the middle of the hall...if Miss Gilmore could even be called that. She was the one who had banished the girl to that cramped, airless space to live her entire life in. Not only this, the girl was underfed, unclean, unhappy, ill in body and emotions, and deprived of any other companionship. Prudence had never known another girl who lived anywhere close to this...and she believed fervently that no other should have to.  
  
This caused a small piece of sharp, acrid rancor to form within Prudence.  
  
She knew she should not hold this bitterness towards her own teacher, who provided Prudence with the gateway to a proper and stable adult life...  
  
But had Miss Gilmore not earned at least a bit of vitriol from her, considering all that her student had discovered?  
  
Prudence thought she had.  
  
She tried to ignore this for the moment, though, to focus on the lesson, and when the class was dismissed and she joined her friends as they chatted happily amongst each other.  
  
She could not be sure of this, but as she did, it looked like Miss Gilmore frowned at her.  
  


~

  
_She had come back._  
  
Despite all her thoughts regarding whatever goodwill Prudence had in doing so, in protest against it or in jubilation of it, this mantra echoed in Lucretia's mind.  _She had come back._  
  
This was the simple truth, really.  
  
It had greatly alleviated Lucretia's worries over what Prudence thought, how she felt, if she had told anyone... Prudence had let her know all of this. Lucretia was not sure how much of it to trust, but it was something...and somehow she knew the girl meant well. She could just tell... Prudence had not at all come off to her as being as confident, arrogant, and self-satisfied as some of the other girls. She had always seemed kinder and more reserved than her friends...  
  
Lucretia had to snicker then, at the memory of Prudence stumbling nervously over her words.  
  
She felt some sense of pride for her, too. Even if Prudence had been nervous and afraid, she had come back anyways. She had, out of her own free will and with her own two feet, gone right up to the dwelling place of one whom the world had forgotten...just to keep her company for a while.  
  
Moreover, she had looked at Lucretia. This had made Lucretia feel a twinge of vulnerability, but...no one ever did this. That was, of course, because no one  _knew_  of the girl hidden away in the room, but Lucretia was sure that if they happened to...they would pointedly avoid even a glimpse at her. Lucretia could barely even look at  _herself_. She remembered how just yesterday, she had been in the water closet when she caught the slightest peek at her reflection. Then, the next thing she knew, she was on her knees as vomit rushed up her throat into the lavatory.  
  
Sure, to be met with one's own reflection to behold such a sight had been for Lucretia — and would be for anyone else — upsetting, terrifying, and disgusting, especially because of the reality that such severe ugliness was one's own. Lucretia could be sure that all others, even if they did not react so strongly, would look at her with shock, disgust, and fear clearly on their faces, as much as they might try to hide it. This was sad, but unfortunately true. Lucretia had been so nervous to glance up at Prudence when the latter was talking...she did not want to see that on the face of the girl who had gone to such lengths just to be there. But when she did turn her eyes to her, she had noticed none of these things.  
  
Her musings were interrupted by the door abruptly opening. Lucretia jumped a little, but then saw it was only her mother with the newly cleaned bed sheets.  
  
"Your sheets are clean," she told her.  
  
Lucretia nodded.  
  
"You seem rather contented," Miss Gilmore noted as she set them down by Lucretia's bed.  
  
Did she? Lucretia vaguely heard a tone of faultfinding in her mother's voice... Had she done something wrong in this? She hoped not...  
  
"Just a little," she replied.  
  
"What about?" Miss Gilmore snapped impatiently.  
  
Lucretia was quiet for a moment, then said softly, as if confessing, "She came back."  
  
"Don't be a fool," Miss Gilmore hissed. "She did so out of pity, likely to ease her own guilty conscience. Just you watch. She may come again, but she won't be back a third time."  
  
She stepped closer to her daughter. "You should understand by now. Why I have kept you here. Why no one else can ever see you. It's for your own protection."  
  
Lucretia was silent.  
  
"Do you understand?" Miss Gilmore demanded, her voice rising a bit.  
  
"Yes, Mother," Lucretia answered meekly.  
  
"Good," Miss Gilmore said before leaving the room.


	11. Chapter 11

Some nights later, in the girls' bedroom, the faint light of the candle waned and darkness slowly crept in, chiaroscuro dancing across the walls. In this time, all it took were a few loud creaks of a distant floorboard to make Eloise whimper, evoking snickers from her friends.  
  
"There's nothing to be afraid of," Ione insisted to the cowering lump under the sheets.  
  
Eloise moaned dramatically into her pillow.  
  
Ione glanced at her sideways. "Do you need Maggie to sing you a lullaby?"  
  
Prudence chortled, and some of the other girls laughed too.  
  
"Oh, will you sing one of your Irish songs?" Catherine pleaded Margaret, amused by Eloise's faintheartedness but still eager to hear a song. It had been a little while since they had.  
  
Margaret sighed, but smiled all the same, tossing a lock of her bright auburn hair over her shoulder. "Oh, all right."  
  
Prudence always loved when Margaret sang. She had such a ringing, melodious voice that could be more carefree for songs that befitted it and so soothing for more emotional songs. Some of the other girls at times would join in, dancing or acting out the songs that told a story. This had been especially fun when Margaret sang about the star of the County Down.  
  
The redheaded songstress perched herself on the end of her bed, her hands resting atop it and the hem of her ivory nightgown swaying around her ankles, looking quite at peace before her audience.  
  
Prudence could tell from the first verse that this would be one of the more carefree songs.  
  
"In a neat little town they call Belfast, apprentice to trade I was bound  
Many an hours sweet happiness, have I spent in that neat little town  
A sad misfortune came over me, which caused me to stray from the land  
Far away from me friends and relations, betrayed by the black velvet band"  
  
Margaret's voice rose, so Prudence knew the chorus came next.  
  
"Her eyes they shone like diamonds  
I thought her the queen of the land  
And her hair, it hung over her shoulder  
Tied up with a black velvet band  
  
"I took a stroll down Broadway, meaning not long for to stay  
When who should I meet but this pretty fair maid comes a tripping along the highway  
She was both fair and handsome, her neck it was just like a swans  
And her hair, it hung over her shoulder, tied up with a black velvet band  
  
"Her eyes they shone like diamonds  
I thought her the queen of the land  
And her hair, it hung over her shoulder  
Tied up with a black velvet band  
  


"I took a stroll with this pretty fair maid, and a gentleman passing us by  
Well I knew she meant the doing of him, by the look in her roguish black eye  
A goldwatch she took from his pocket and placed it right in to my hand  
And the very first thing that I said was bad luck to the black velvet band"

Some of the girls joined in for the next chorus.

"Her eyes they shone like diamonds  
I thought her the queen of the land  
And her hair, it hung over her shoulder  
Tied up with a black velvet band

"Before the judge and the jury, next morning I had to appear  
The judge he says to me, 'Young man, your case it is proven clear  
We'll give you seven years penal servitude, to be spent faraway from the land  
Far away from your friends and companions, betrayed by the black velvet band

"Her eyes they shone like diamonds  
I thought her the queen of the land  
And her hair, it hung over her shoulder  
Tied up with a black velvet band

"So come all you jolly young fellows, a warning take by me  
When you are out on the town, me lads, beware of them pretty colleens  
For they feed you with strong drink, 'Oh yeah,' 'til you are unable to stand  
And the very next thing that you'll know is you've landed in Van Diemens Land

"Her eyes they shone like diamonds  
I thought her the queen of the land  
And her hair, it hung over her shoulder  
Tied up with a black velvet band"

The other girls clapped and cheered for Margaret, then climbed into their beds for the night, before Miss Gilmore could reprimand them into quietness.

"Are you feeling better now, Ellie?" Ione asked wryly.

"Quite," Eloise replied, a bright sparkle evident in her eyes.

"Good night, then," Margaret laughed.

"Good night!" some of the girls called.

Prudence smiled a little to herself, her own spirits lifted, but...then it settled on her that in these times after Margaret had finished singing, nothing could be heard from the room in the middle of the hall. Had the girl within also been soothed by the melody? Or...perhaps quite the opposite had happened. She must have been intimidated by how the students feared, and sometimes mocked, her presence. Then there was that Margaret's Irish songs often told of fair colleens. Not a one of them, not the star of the County Down or the maid of Culmore or the black velvet band, was said to be anything less than beautiful. The girls imploring Margaret to sing these in their times of nervous unease, and joining with her in them, almost felt as if they meant to banish some evil spirit.

"Are you all right, Prudence?" came Margaret's voice as she approached where Prudence sat on her bed. "You've looked a bit pale."

She had noticed. Prudence should have known that someone would. She had thought that even if the inner tempest within her showed on her face a bit, it would remain unseen as long as Prudence was careful to keep it within her. But of course one of her friends would eventually notice. And of course one such as Margaret would ask.

She was ready to pour it all out then. That their teacher was hiding a living human being in that secret room, the state of abject negligence and sadness that being dwelled in, everything. The reality weighed heavily on Prudence's heart, and although she had been told by Miss Gilmore to simply disregard what she had seen...that was not nearly as easy for Prudence as it was for the teacher. Prudence felt a growingly familiar twinge of bitterness at this, that the girl's own mother condoned such a lonely and nearly destitute existence for her daughter, while Prudence, who was barely more than a stranger to the girl, could not find it in herself to. Why should Prudence listen to a command like this from Miss Gilmore, then, after all that she had done? What had Miss Gilmore done to deserve it?

Besides, this was Margaret who was asking. What harm could Margaret do? She was the sweetest, kindest friend Prudence had ever had.

Prudence could feel the words rise up, from deep within her, to just behind her lips.

But then she swallowed them back down.

She could not do that. This was not for her to tell, especially not while the girl in the room was still so frightened and vulnerable. Not so soon after she had shrieked in horror of her own reflection...after she had shrank in timidity before Prudence that night...Prudence remembered the silent tears that flowed from the girl's bulging eyes down her lumpy, gashed cheeks. Her pain was still so new and fresh.

"I'm just a bit weary," she replied.

"Are you sure 'tis all?" Yet more concern crept into Margaret's voice.

"...I may be a bit homesick," Prudence added, smiling sadly.

Margaret took her hand and stroked the top of it with her thumb. "I know, 'tis a bit frightful at first. Me family crossed an ocean to be here. But you have all of us with you. All will be well. Truly, 'twill be." Her green eyes glinted and a sweet smile lit her face as she kissed Prudence's forehead before she bounced over to her own bed.

Prudence knew, as she settled into bed, that it was a sin to lie. But...how could she have confessed the truth? Would it not be an even worse sin to expose such a frail and wounded girl, without her express consent and when she was clearly not prepared? Such an act seemed...almost like betrayal. Prudence had, after all, assured the girl that she had not told anyone...and promised her that she would not.

Prudence felt a bit guilty lying to a friend, as they all had been nothing but warm and considerate, and while God was watching her. But she knew it had to be done, and she felt an urging conviction that protecting the girl in the room was what mattered the most.

Even so...she hoped none of her friends grew suspicious or found out what she had done.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I feel like this chapter isn't really as good as the others, but...it's still presentable.
> 
> Merry Christmas!!! :D

Prudence sighed in annoyance at the start of class that day. Yet again, Eloise's desk was too close to hers, the edge of it right up against her and Eloise's left leg swinging rhythmically back and forth, her foot abruptly kicking the limb of Prudence's desk from time to time.  
  
Prudence was sure Eloise did this on purpose. Eloise would follow right behind her on their way to their desks, no matter which of the girls Prudence had walked in alongside. Then when they both sat down, Prudence would hear Eloise's desk scrape forward until the wooden edge of it touched her back, then stop.  
  
The other girls were still walking into the classroom then, their footsteps tapping against the floor and the desks and chairs shifting when they sat.  
  
That was when something surprising happened.  
  
It was in the midst of those coming in, after some of the older girls took their seats in the back, that Hannah, the girl who sat behind Eloise, started to walk by. Hannah was probably around the same age as Eloise, maybe a bit younger. She was a plainer sort, with wide eyes, dull skin, stringy hair, and freckles. She glanced at Eloise quickly, then back ahead of her.  
  
It was just before she passed Eloise's desk that she tripped and fell to the floor.  
  
Cordelia and Catherine snickered from the column of desks beside where Eloise sat.  
  
Then there was Eloise, with an impish sneer on her face as she gazed down at the fallen girl. She pulled her left leg back in then...from under Hannah's ankles.  
  
Hannah was silent, though clearly embarrassed, a blush spread across her face as she stood and took her seat at her desk. When she looked up, Prudence immediately turned back around, not wanting to stare. A few moments passed before Miss Gilmore arrived.  
  
Now that Prudence thought of it, this was not the first time Eloise had done something like this. She remembered that Eloise, and sometimes Cordelia and Catherine, would at times whisper behind their hands while casting glances at Hannah and giggling. They were like this towards a few other girls, too, all of whom were shier and plainer than they.  
  
Prudence had thought before that perhaps this was only playful teasing. The friends teased each other all the time. But...none of them had ever done anything to another that could harm them. Yet Hannah and those other girls were being jeered at in a purposefully cruel, hurtful way.  
  
What had they even done to deserve it? They had never done anything to Eloise or the others. They were always so quiet and mild, and kind to others...  
  
Now that she thought of it, Prudence realized that Eloise, Margaret, Ione, Cordelia, and Catherine were often much louder, more outspoken, and more animated than the rest of the girls at school.  
  
Prudence, on the other hand, was sometimes a bit withdrawn around them. She had often, especially as of late, found herself somewhat in the background, just laughing along with them. She had been told before by others that she was quiet, and had sometimes heard people praising her father for the humility and courteousness with which he had raised his daughter.  
  
But why, Prudence wondered to herself, had she not noticed this before?  
  
Prudence had been about to ask, after Hannah had fallen, if she was all right, but...somehow felt then that she should not. Why was that?  
  


~

  
Later that night, Prudence wasn't sure what exactly it was that moved her, but somehow it just felt like time.  
  
Time for her, after the brightly shining moon had risen high in the black night sky, to push the covers back, slip out of bed, and carefully open the door and slide through the crack.  
  
 _"You should stay away from her from now on."_  
  
Prudence remembered what her teacher had said. Now here she was deliberately going against it, standing outside the door of her bedroom in the path to the room down the hall across from it. How could there be a time for that?  
  
Still, undeterred, she carefully stepped down the hallway until she reached the forbidden room. She would, given any other circumstances, have obeyed her teacher and stayed far away from it. This was how she was raised to be.  
  
But...was she not also raised to love her neighbor as herself? There was someone in that room, who had been deprived of so much, including almost any form of company. Surely there was something Prudence could do about this. She knew there was. And she knew that God's commandment far transcended her teacher's.  
  
Besides this, she held a strong resolve that this was what she was to do. What she was meant to do. And, her duties as a daughter and as a student aside, it was what she wanted to do.  
  
It was hard to see, in pitch darkness, but she could not take a candle with her in a time like this. She had to remain unseen. Just a shadow in the night.  
  
She slowly reached out and ran her fingers along the wall, across the wood until she felt the brass knob of the door.   
  
Then she tentatively raised her fist and knocked quietly on the door.  
  
It softly creaked as it opened a crack.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy crap, it's been almost a freaking YEAR since I touched this story. Wow. Ok, everybody has definitely long forgotten about this, and if you're reading this right now, you're probably hopelessly lost, so see the previous chapter for a recap (or just start at the beginning if you need to).

Lucretia once again felt a pang in her chest and a shiver run down her skin when she heard the sudden knock on her door. There were three soft raps, just as there had been last time...so it had to be the girl again, right? Or...could it be her mother? Did she know? Was Lucretia in trouble for this?  
  
No, it couldn't have been. Her mother would have let herself in unannounced, as she always did. This was definitely Prudence.  
  
Lucretia slid off her bed and opened the door a tiny crack, hiding most of herself behind it and letting her long dark hair fall over her face as much as it would.  
  
Staring back at her as she peeked through the crack was a figure of the same age and stature as her, in an ivory nightgown and with long blonde hair. Nervous anticipation filled her light blue eyes.  
  
"H-Hello," she spoke quietly. "I'm back."  
  
Lucretia breathed a silent sigh of relief. It was Prudence.  
  
She opened the door wider to let her in, standing behind it to shield herself from the eyes of any passersby, then quickly closed and locked it after Prudence walked in.  
  
Though Prudence did not directly look her way, Lucretia could feel the lighter, wider pair of eyes on her as she passed by. Yet Prudence did not so much as flinch when Lucretia approached her, or when her stringy, tangled black hair brushed her shoulder as she walked by. She hardly seemed at all afraid.  
  
Lucretia took that moment to meet Prudence's eyes then as she seated herself on her bed. She did this partly to see if there was really any fear in Prudence, and partly to assert her position as the host, being the room's constant occupant, and holding the right to dismiss her guest if she wished.This was a small trace of power, but it was something.  
  
Not that she thought she would do this. Lucretia really was relieved that Prudence had returned. She wanted her here, and after Prudence had taken it upon herself to come back a second time, Lucretia would not send her away unless she felt herself truly threatened.  
  
She noticed then that Prudence looked a bit pale and was trembling slightly. There was still no fear in her eyes, though. Definite discomfort and unease, but...this seemed to come from sadness rather than fear. Prudence glanced up at Lucretia for just a moment then before casting her gaze back down.  
  
It was in that moment, when Prudence's wide blue eyes met Lucretia's, that a pang of sympathy struck Lucretia. She remembered that Prudence's father was a deacon, and now she was here. Thinking of this and Prudence's demeanor towards her friends, Lucretia thought...what if Prudence had been very sheltered back at home? She must have never seen anything like this...never known so intimately one like Lucretia and the state she lived in.  
  
"It's all right," Prudence's voice shook, but she drew in a deep breath.  
  
Lucretia found her gaze lingering just a bit longer on Prudence. She still did not want to speak, though.  
  
Prudence added, as if to answer Lucretia's thoughts, "This is just...so much to take in. That...you live like this..."  
  
"But...I'm still here," she continued, swinging her legs nervously.  
  
 _Why?_ Lucretia thought.  
  
This was no place for a guest...and Lucretia was the last host that one would desire. It was a cramped, dusty, slightly odorous room in the middle of the night, its host a pale, gaunt, ashen girl who wore only a thin, stained nightgown, with disheveled hair and a face so hideous it felt improper to show. This was all by no means welcoming, not that Lucretia could do anything about that. So why would Prudence come back?  
  
Lucretia felt so vulnerable, too. For so long she had no form of constant company here. Prudence's two visits were closer together than any of those of Lucretia's mother. This lifted Lucretia's spirit, but also made her a bit nervous, since she had long forgotten how to be social. Her refusal to speak had been a few things. A small part of it was distrusting coldness towards Prudence, as the girl was still a stranger to her. Another part of it was relishing in that she did not have to speak if she did not wish to. This was another small trace of power, something she would take advantage of, since she had been so deprived of it for so long. The last part, and the largest part, was shyness. She was truly at a loss for what to do and say, since she did not know and had long forgotten.  
  
"I...I still remember that night," Prudence said. Then she quickly added, "I won't remind you of it. That is not what I mean to do. I mean...that since I was there...I cannot just abandon you. I cannot leave you to this."  
  
A mutual discomfort and sense of melancholy hung in the air, but it still felt a bit strange to Lucretia, sitting here with her new acquaintance right across from her, while Prudence spoke to her as if there was nothing forbidden or disallowed about it. Lucretia never expected this. She thought she might be discovered one day, and knew that if she was, she would be scorned and reviled and hated. She never thought one would intend to befriend her.  
  
"I can scarcely imagine being so alone like this," Prudence breathed. "None of my homesickness has come close to it...and..."  
  
She looked at Lucretia then. "Had...had you heard what your mother said?" Her voice cracked a bit.  
  
Lucretia paused for several seconds, staring down at her bed sheets, then nodded.  
  
Even given all that had happened, this was only the second time Prudence had been here. Lucretia remembered her mother's insistence that Prudence would not be back a third time. She hoped with all of her heart that Prudence would...  
  
It was in the midst of this musing that Lucretia realized Prudence had asked what her name was.  
  
"I...I'm not sure if you know my name, but...it's Prudence. What is your name?" she had inquired.  
  
Should she tell her? Prudence had already been given access to details that Lucretia considered very intimate and private about herself, including one that she actually found shameful. This was one of the last things about her that Prudence did not know. Lucretia, and she alone in this moment, held the decision to tell Prudence or not to tell her.  
  
Why had she asked? This must mean she would return again...or was she only curious?  
  
Still, Lucretia felt strongly that if there was anyone who deserved to know, it was Prudence. She who had gone up to the forbidden room in the middle of the night, against her teacher's orders, despite what lay within...just to keep its lonely occupant company. And though she was tired, sad, and overwhelmed by what she had seen, she returned a second time for the same purpose.  
  
"It's Lucretia."


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uhmm...wow. I forgot to upload this earlier. And yet I posted the wedding and Christmas fics. RODERIGO CRACKFICS TAKE PRECENDENCE OVER A SERIOUS ORIGINAL STORY, OK ^^;
> 
> But here it is~
> 
> Hope everyone had a happy New Year! :D
> 
>  
> 
> *ranting ahead* 
> 
> When my sister and I were little, my mom used to call tangles "snarlies" XD 
> 
> I've been using a word counting website recently and, upon copying and pasting these chapters into it, found that I might want to lengthen Chapters 2, 3, 4, 7, and 12 ^^; Possibly the other chapters under 1,500, but...meh. Maybe between 1,000-1,500 is fine. I could split Chapter 5 in two in that case :D

Still in her nightgown, Eloise was yanking a brush through her long brown hair the next morning as the other girls were far ahead of her in preparing for the day.  
  
"Ellie, hurry up!" Catherine urged her.  
  
"I have a tangle!" Eloise frowned.  
  
Upon closer inspection, Prudence saw that she did indeed. Quite a large one, too.  
  
"That you do...it looks as if a squirrel died in it," Ione said bluntly as she slid her glasses on, which were swiftly knocked off her face when Eloise threw the brush at her head. Cordelia scrambled to catch them just in time, and handed them back to their owner.  
  
"Thank you, Dee," Ione said in relief.  
  
"We really must be going to breakfast now," Margaret noted. "You'll be in trouble if you're late to class, Ellie."  
  
"How am I to go to class with this...abomination?!" Eloise exclaimed, clutching the lock of knotted hair.  
  
"It's class, not a fashion plate," Ione said as she walked by her, earning herself a shove from Eloise.  
  
"Here." Cordelia handed Eloise her uniform. "Put your clothes on, and I'll take care of it on our way there."  
  


~

  
Sure enough, when they arrived for breakfast, Eloise was dressed and looking as bright and smooth as ever. Cordelia trailed behind, undoing the last of the knot in her friend's hair with her fingers, then pulling it from where it was caught in the back collar. They giggled to each other softly and simply ignored the confused look that their teacher gave them from the head of the table.  
  
Eloise was truly a very pretty girl, Prudence thought. She had long, silken mahogany hair and eyes of a lighter, more cheerful brown, as wide and round as a young doe's. Her small nose was just slightly turnt up at the tip, her skin a fine alabaster with a hint of peach, and her hands dainty and delicate. The perfect picture of a young Victorian lady. It was really no wonder she took such pride in herself, especially compared to the plainer girls around her, though...Prudence knew, with dismay, that this definitely did not excuse how she treated them.  
  
Her heart sank when she thought of the girl upstairs then. That girl was more than just plain...even the least comely of the schoolgirls had much fairer faces than her. Prudence did not mean at all to insult the poor girl in her thoughts, but it was the unfortunate truth, and one that caused Prudence deep sadness for her.  
  
But last night had not proceeded too poorly. Not at all. Prudence's heart lightened as she remembered what the girl said her name was.  
  
 _"It's Lucretia."_  
  
Her name was a rolling wave on Prudence's tongue. The low, mellifluous first syllable, the hard flint of the second, and the softly whispered third. Such a harmonic balance it was, a sweet little secret that Prudence held in her heart.  
  


~

  
_"She did so out of pity, likely to ease her own guilty conscience. Just you watch. She may come again, but she won't be back a third time."_  
  
Lucretia remembered what her mother had said about Prudence's return, when she had been struck that morning with the realization that last night was the second time Prudence had come back to her.  
  
She shivered at the thought, filling with dread and anxiety. Her mother had never cared for her much, and Lucretia knew that, but some of her words could sting. Lucretia wanted so much for there to be another one for her. She knew she should be content with her mother's company and care, grateful for it considering the station of her birth. Still, she grew lonely at times. There had always been some aching emptiness inside her that pained her so. She knew she should not hope that Prudence would be the one to fill it, should not even dream of it, these hopes would only sink...  
  
But now, especially, that this girl had presented herself with a seemingly genuine interest in Lucretia, even asking for her _name_...this seemed to go beyond mere concern and...pity... Now Lucretia found herself hoping that it was what it seemed. That maybe it was about her, not about Prudence's own feelings, that this was why Prudence returned. That maybe there was something about her, beyond her physical form, that Prudence saw and valued, wanted to be a part of. That maybe there was more to Lucretia than ugliness and revulsion, more here for her than just loneliness.  
  
But what if...?  
  
She hoped for this so much it ached within her body as the conflict thoughts swarmed within her mind, clenched at her heart, and spilled from her eyes, blurring her vision as she stared out the lone window in her room at the city below. As always, people bustled by, carriages passed, men in their suits and top hats, ladies in those heavy, multilayered dresses, with all the lace, ruffles, bows, and skirts. The little ones looked barely any different. Lucretia had a normal life once, before...this...had happened, but she scarcely remembered what a dress felt like, apart from her thin old nightgown, what stockings and boots and hairpieces felt like. They must have felt so much more polished and finished, so much more confident. And much warmer, of course. It was always so cold in this room. So cold everywhere around Lucretia.  
  
As she looked sadly out at the world outside, she knew it could not be hers. She could not hope to share in it, not fully. She could not even be amongst the other girls just a hallway away from her as they chatted and laughed amongst each other, even though they were just the same. They were of the same age, the same form, nearly the same intelligence...all but for one thing, that made Lucretia feel so like them yet such a different creature. So close and yet so far. But, for once, if she could at least leave this room...or have some form of constant company apart from her own sadness and loneliness.  
  
Silently, so desperately it made her shudder, she fell to her knees by the window then, lowered her head onto her clasped hands, and prayed hard that this was so. That her mother would be wrong. That there was hope for her. That Prudence would be back a third time.


End file.
